May
21
Cups of Coffee
May 21, 2011 | Leave a Comment
Often, he would awake at 2 AM. It was getting to be a standard. Awake. Unable to go back to sleep. Get up, throw the clothes on. Try to attain a level of awakeness that would get him out to the kitchen and the old electric coffee perc. Plug it in. Turn on the radio […]
May
14
They Called Him Lupi
May 14, 2011 | Leave a Comment
They called him “Lupi.” Because he was clumsy and awkward and childlike. Even at 57. They thought he needed to be more “responsible”–less “impulsive”–more “serious.” That he shouldn’t “trust” so much–shouldn’t be so “gentle”–so–”gullible.” Interesting thing I noticed about Lupi shortly after I met him: he just wanted to be peaceful–understood–kind. I also noticed something […]
Apr
4
After She Left Him
April 4, 2011 | Leave a Comment
After she left him, he walked the empty, dark streets at night. Trying to figure out what happened. Long drags on a stinging cigarette– a small glow that tried to light the shroud. Nothing worked. Everything was a reverberating, steel-cold echo. He needed to know why, and there was no why. Just the silence. And […]
Mar
27
Old Folks
March 27, 2011 | Leave a Comment
“Howarya, John?” Nursing home visit to see John–someone from a distance back in my life. Before finding him, I had searched the third floor halls to locate him. A nursing assistant found me and directed me to the “day room.” John was in there–his star spangled American flag hat atop his bald head–the cap bill […]
Mar
26
Goodbye
March 26, 2011 | Leave a Comment
Goodbye. Frightfully final. Had he misinterpreted? Inadvertently looked at things through gauzey, tired eyes? The old music–the oldies–kept booming through his mind–holding her hand–arm around her in the car–night trips–day trips–hell–she was the integral cog in his life. If he had done it, she was there. On the beach. In the mountains. Everywhere. To the […]
Feb
21
A Telling Wind
February 21, 2011 | Leave a Comment
The wind blew sharply and the coiling clouds scuffed the treetops. He stood, looking. Years ago, he had stood here holding her hand, both of them looking. Now, it was just him. His arthritic fingers cramped, and he gently rubbed his old hands together. He had promised her he would come here one last time. […]
Feb
14
Joshua (from Hal’s book “Journeys”)
February 14, 2011 | Leave a Comment
Joshua was just a dog who stumbled over her own paws when she was just a pup. I used to pick her up and run with her through fields at sunset, let her sleep warm in my arms, and sometimes in my bed. And in return, she gave me love. That may seem strange to […]
Feb
12
Close To It
February 12, 2011 | Leave a Comment
George valued proximity. Grew up in the suburbs, but always felt drawn to the mountains. Went there whenever he could as a teenager–jumped into the old car and drove up north to be as deep in the woods as possible. For as long as possible. George never felt really comfortable around more than one person […]
Feb
10
Pushed to the Limit
February 10, 2011 | Leave a Comment
Mr. Robert Frost undoubtedly gave this a great deal of thought before writing: ” The rain to the wind said/’You push and I’ll pelt.’/They so smote the garden bed/That the flowers actually knelt and lay lodged,/Though not dead./I know how the flowers felt.” Remember.
Jan
23
Flopsy
January 23, 2011 | Leave a Comment
There is an agreeable stuffed bunny character that sits atop a chair back directly across the living room from my Mother-In-Law’s recliner. Years ago, when my Mother-In-Law was severely ill and in the hospital, my daughter gave her this talisman of love and encouragement. Flopsy is the bunny’s name, and she faithfully gazes across the […]